


Wreck You

by orphan_account



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Biphobia, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drinking, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kraken Sandwich, Let's see if I ever finish this, M/M, Minor Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark, Misogyny, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Torture, R plus L equals J, Ramsay is his own warning, Slower burn than I'm used to, Torture, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tragedy strikes Theon's surrogate family, he goes to a bar. He is unaware that there he will meet someone who will change his life forever. And not in a good way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> after years of not having written fanfic, or at least not fanfic that I'm happy with, I've started working on a pet project of mine. Mainly, a Modern AU for Thramsay.  
> I should warn you from the beginning that I am wildly interested in fucked up dynamics, that I might be a bit irresponsible, and that characterization is going to be based on the TV-series, because: 1) I have only read sections of the book, 2) I love Iwan Rheon and Alfie Allen, 3)the modern era setting requires some things to be changed.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

It started out normal. 

Well, as normal as it could start for Theon Greyjoy. A normal hook-up that went too far.

Theon was laying on the bed, breath hitched, tears running through his face. He sniffled and dried them, thinking of nothing except how his whole body hurt. Then his phone began ringing. 

Startled, he looked at the screen, shinning bright in the dark room. A fitting image. He saw the caller. 

Robb Stark. 

A metal song that right then Theon could not remember the name to resounded through the place. 

And it kept ringing. 

And it kept ringing.

The door to the bathroom opened, light seeping in along with steam and a humid smell. 

“Who is it?” asked a soft voice. 

Theon raised his sight, opening his mouth. 

_New blood joins this earth_

Then he lowered his head and kept quiet.

_And quickly he’s subdued_

The other began walking towards the phone. “I said who is it?”

 _Through constant pained disgraced_

Taking a deep breath, Theon reached for the phone, hanging up. “No one important.” 

_The young boy learns th-_

Silence. 

“Good” he said.

And Theon breathed again. 

 

If he could go back in time, he would try to avoid it all. God, he would try.  
But could he?  
And most importantly, did it matter? He couldn’t go back in time.  
The wind was cold, and Theon was simply wearing a T-shirt. Well, it was his own damn fault, really. This was the shittiest club in the North. It was known. It was also a 7 PM on a weekday. Even if he had never gone there, he should have suspected it would be dark and cold, and almost empty.

He was pretty sure the guy in the corner was touching himself under the table. And at any other point, Theon would have approached his companion and gave her a way out. Not because he was a gentleman, but because she was hot. 

It had been almost like being back home. He could still hear the screams, the conmotion, Catelyn Stark crying as Bran was carried away into the ambulance. Hit and run. 

“He might not make it.” he’d overheard.

He was like a little brother to Theon. An annoying little brother who hated Theon’s guts.

Bran liked to climb and pretend he could fight. Robb always pretended along with him. Theon wasn’t always that nice. Everyone said he’d grow up to be a strong and clever man. Now they weren’t sure if he was ever going to make it past seven.

“And even then, he will never walk again.”

Arya had almost cried. Arya, out of all people. And Jon had looked even sadder than usual. 

And Theon had approached Robb, offered to drive them to the hospital, since Ned was working. He’d acted sensibly, even. He’d punched a paparazzi or two in the face, too.

And then, hours later, the doctors had told them to come in, even Ned who had just arrived.

All eight of them. 

And then he’d been stopped by the doctor. “Family only”

Robb had made a face and then waved.

 

“Are you okay, mister?” a man asked. 

Thank God. He’d almost started dwelling on it. “Yes.” He didn’t raise his sight, frowning at his hands. 

“Okay, then. Welcome to the Dreadfort.”

“Yeah, okay.” he muttered. There was silence, but Theon could feel the man looming over him. 

He finally looked up, only to find a pair of eery, icy eyes staring at him. Theon almost cringed. “Go away.”

The man stared at him for a moment, then smiled. “Of course, mister. As soon as I get your order.”

Theon felt stupid. Of course it was the bartender. Who else was going to talk to him in that godforsaken place? He reached for his wallet, only to find out he’d forgotten it. “Shit”

“Anything the matter?” 

Theon glanced at him another time, assessing the other guy, who kept staring at him with wide eyes. Yeah… he was pretty sure he could take him on a fight. 

“No, nothing. Bring me a beer.”

A beer turned into six and a whiskey, as the club filled with dancing bodies and smoke. The voice of the doctor still ringing in his ears, Catelyn crying, his father yelling. His mother asking for Rodrik and Maron. Alcohol wasn’t doing him well. The house at Pyke, all grey and dreary.

Family only, the doctor had said. And really, he’d been right. Theon was not a Stark, that much was obvious. That much was known to everyone in the city who’d ever heard about the Starks, and who hadn’t? Ned was the hero of the fucking city. The best goddamn chief of police they had had, their golden mayor. 

“Hey.”

Who the fuck was Theon? 

“Hey, you.”

A goddamn charity case. That was it. Some poor, abused kid who had befriended the right person. Some pathetic, promiscuous- 

“Hey!” Someone tapped his shoulder. He expected to find the same bartender. Instead, there was an older man, staring down at him. “It’s time you pay your tab and go.” His voice was low and firm. Theon recognized him immediately: Roose Bolton. That meant, it was not a question. Theon stood up, nodding, before remembering he didn’t have his wallet. He swallowed, nervously. Among all the clubs the man owned, why was he in the crappiest one? And most importantly, why had Theon thought he could steal from him?

“It’s alright, sir” Someone said, and Theon took a time to realize it was the bartender, who smiled at him. It would have been a good smile if his eyes hadn’t been so widely open. “It’s on the house”

Theon thought that man was going to get fired on the spot. Roose Bolton frowned deeply, and Theon waited to hear the words, insults, something. Instead… “Very well”

And the man left. 

Theon stood there, staring dumbly for a few seconds, before turning to the guy. 

“You are welcome.” He started drying a glass. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t have any money.” Theon frowned, the bartender chuckled “Come on, it was obvious.”

Theon sighed, swallowing his pride for once. The alcohol probably helped. “Yeah. I guess you are right.” he fidgeted a little “Thanks, uh...”

“Ramsay.” He offered his hand to shake. Theon didn’t take it.

“Alright. Thanks, Ramsay.” He walked out the door. As he left, he was almost sure Ramsay said something, but he didn’t know what it was.

He didn’t care. It was not like he was ever coming back.

If only he’d listened to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, this chapter doesn't have Ramsay on it. Sorry about it.   
> If you see any mistakes, please tell me. Thank you very much for reading this!

When he reached the house on Winterfell, Theon found out he had no keys, either. He cursed. Now he had to wait for the Starks out in the cold, and face their disapproving glances once they saw him drunk.   
“This is not a time to get drunk.” one of them would say. He wondered whether it’d be Eddard or Robb.  
Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much, but it seemed like an extreme amount. Tired, he sent Robb a text, but he didn’t answer. He probably hadn’t read it. They probably wouldn’t be back and no one had bothered to tell Theon. Well, why should they? They most likely assumed he wouldn’t be stupid enough to forget his wallet, or keys. Or they thought he’d go somewhere else. It suited him to go sleep with someone, to not go home… Well, not home. No, this house wasn’t his home. He ought to remember that, never forget it.  
Well, fine. He’d do as expected. It wasn’t so late. With certain difficulty caused by his shaking fingers, he called Kyra.  
“Yeah, hello.” He said, as he began walking. “I’m going to your place.”  
There was silence for a moment, then a gentle “Oh. Alright. Sure.”  
And a hint of pity.  
He could tell she knew about Bran. She wanted to ask him about Bran. He didn’t want to talk about him. “Don’t get your hopes up. I just need a place to crash at.”

He had refused to take the bed. In his mind, if you didn’t fuck the girl, you didn’t earn the bed. Part of him thought his father would have been proud to hear him say that. “Pay the iron price” he’d always say, following after his family’s tradition. It was a shitty tradition. It meant shitty things, such as no gifts for your birthday, or Christmas. It meant working around the house instead of playing; polishing the floors, cleaning the dishes, making the bed. And with four kids running around, and Theon being the smallest, it meant often being beaten to them and remaining without dinner.  
He left before Kyra woke up, and headed to the hospital. His battery had died out during the night, so he couldn’t find out whether Robb and his family had gone back to the house. He doubted it.  
This time he was allowed into Bran’s room. There were flowers everywhere, ‘get well soon’ cards, teddy bears. The news had probably reached all papers and stations in the city by then.  
By the bed was Catelyn Stark, looking at his unconscious boy with unfathomable sadness. Theon wanted to go away the moment he saw her, but she looked up.  
“Theon” she said, her voice sounding awfully calm. Calm and tired.  
“How is he doing?” He asked, stupidly. She looked at him accordingly. Theon tried to offer her an understanding smile, but after a few seconds, he was worried he might have looked mocking. He often did. “So he has not woken up.”  
“No.”  
There was an uncomfortable silence. He wished he hadn’t been left alone with Catelyn.  
“Where’s Robb?”  
“In the police station.”  
Theon nodded, softly. “I don’t have my keys.” he admitted, finally. “Would yo-?”  
“Jon is back home.”  
Theon raised her eyebrows. There was something slightly bitter to Catelyn Stark’s voice everytime she talked about her nephew. People said it was because Eddard had adopted him without her consent. Other people, who did not know Ned quite as well, said he was actually his illegitimate child and the whole Lyanna story was a cover-up. He frankly didn’t care to find out. He wondered, however, if Jon had gone back out of his own volition or he’d been ordered to do so.   
“Thank you.”   
And just like that, he left, glancing at Bran one more time.

It had been stupid of him to wait for the Starks to be in the house, he realized. After all, there were employees there. Still, Jon was the one to open the door to him. He glanced at Theon with slight bafflement and questions in his eyes.   
“What is it, Snow?” he asked.  
Jon frowned. He’d never liked the nickname, mainly because it was an insult among those parts. It was akin to saying “your parents did not love you”, because only kids with ‘pedigree’ went to the Snow Orphanage.   
“Someone was looking for you.” Jon said, and beckoned him in. Theon didn’t hesitate to follow him, and as he closed the door, Jon handed him two things: a wallet and his keys. “Some guy said he’d found them near a bar.”  
Theon cursed mentally. He must have dropped them. He wondered who the guy had been. “Great.”  
“Not great.” Jon said, with what looked almost like anger.   
“Nothing is ever great for you.”  
Jon pursed his lips. “What if someone had used them to break in while we weren’t here?”  
“Well, then the guards are shitty.” He shrugged, and began leaving.  
“Robb will not like to hear you went out partying while our brother was in the hospital.”  
Theon stopped walking, and glared at Jon. He was still a kid. He could threaten him if he wanted to. Besides, what did that idiot know? Nothing. “First of all, he’s not your brother. He’s your cousin.” Jon looked down for a second. That brought a smile to Theon’s face “Second, no, he won’t like it. So you keep your mouth shut, then.”  
For a moment, Jon straightened up, looked almost defiant. “Or?”  
“Or I’ll shut it for you.” Theon said, shoving him.  
Jon frowned as he regained his balance, but when Robb finally came home, there were no problems regarding that. If it had been anyone else, Theon would have thought it was because the whole family had more pressing matters to worry about, which was true. But this was a Stark. He was too much of a good guy to try to bother Theon, no matter how much he disliked him. And he clearly disliked him.

Even when there were no problems about _him_ , Theon had not anticipated how hectic everything would turn out to be. The Stark house was big. Really big. And old. And that meant, it was not exactly suited for a wheelchair.  
Still, the Starks were wealthy, although not opulent. They simply hired someone to work as well as they could in a short time, which Theon initially found ridiculous, because Bran hadn’t woken up from his coma yet. It turned out to be the wisest choice, actually, given that after a week and a few days, the kid opened his eyes and was almost instantly ready to go back home.  
The Starks prepared a welcome back party. Several important people asked to come, such as Governor Baratheon with his family. Ned and Catelyn immediately agreed that they preferred, at first, to do something private. Sansa was very sad about it. She had a crush on the Baratheons’ older son.   
But it turned out to be the best decision.   
Bran had been a bright boy, full of energy. He still was, probably. But as he wheeled himself into the house, he looked tired and bored. He glanced at the trees with a longing that didn’t fit in such a young face. Telling him they were planning to build a lift on the house only earned a small smile from the boy. A smile that looked almost mocking.   
And then there was also the investigation on who had almost killed him, which seemed to be going nowhere. Bran didn’t remember the accident. People had seen the car speed off, but the descriptions were messy. No one had actually witnessed the event.  
And that was the worst. Why? Easy, because they had left a seven year old unattended for a few minutes and he had almost died. There was room for self-blame there, even for Theon.

Things went downhill for Theon, fast. And that was his own fault. It started when Bran went back to school. Only the employees, Robb and Theon were in the house that day. Theon was chatting with his friend about mundane things, in the Stark’s room.  
Suddenly Bran’s nurse, Wylis, had rushed in, nervously muttering. He did not talk much, except for a verbal tic, but he showed distress plainly. He had gestured at them to follow. Robb had ran behind him and, of course, Theon had not stayed.  
Wylis rushed as much as his big body allowed him, down several streets, until they were near Bran’s school. That was when they went into an alley, and Theon bit his lip. That didn’t bode well.  
Sure enough, Bran was lying on the ground, chairless, and looking like he was fighting back tears. His things were scattered on the ground and a strange, raggedy woman was near him.  
Theon immediately tackled her to the ground. The woman retaliated by trying to knee him in the balls. “Get off me” she said, grabbing his hair and tugging on it. Theon heard Robb rush towards his brother.   
“Bran, are you o-? Theon, what the _hell_ are you doing?”  
Theon froze for a moment, which the woman used to pushed him off. He stared dumbly at his friend “She hurt Bran.”  
Everyone stared at him.  
“No, I didn’t.”  
“No she didn’t” said Bran.   
Robb just seemed baffled. He started gathering his brother’s things. “Wylis wouldn’t have left Bran alone with the person who hurt him. It’s at least six minutes from here to the house.”  
“Hodor.” Wylis nodded.  
Theon frowned.  
“Who are you?” Robb asked.  
“My name is Osha” answered she.  
“What happened?”   
Osha looked at Bran, who shook his head. “Sorry, sir, but I shouldn’t tell you.”  
Theon, in turn, sighed, exasperated. “Tell us, or we’ll go to the police.”  
When she heard that, Osha laughed. “And tell them what? That you attacked me?” Theon opened his mouth to protest. “The little sir needed help. I offered.”  
Robb smiled gently at her, and that pissed Theon off. How could he so easily trust people? What an idiot.   
Then, the Stark turned to Bran. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You can tell me. On our way home. Wylis, can you carry Bran?”  
“Hodor” he said, and picked the boy up easily. Osha raised from the ground. And Theon followed, cleaning dust from his clothes.   
Bran hesitated a bit. “Joffrey stole my wheelchair.”  
Robb stared at him for a moment. “Joffrey Baratheon?”  
“Yes.”  
“Sansa’s ‘prince charming’?”  
“Yes.”  
Robb made a face. “We’ll talk to dad about this.” he then turned to Theon. “I think you owe Osha an apology.” He said, seriously.   
Theon gaped at him, offended. “I thought she was attacking him!”  
“Why did you?” Osha interrupted. “’Cause I’m homeless?”  
 _Oh, crap_. Theon thought. “No.”  
“Then?” Robb asked. “You just assumed she was attacking him, with no proof?”  
“There were things lying on the ground, Robb. She was there. I just… acted by instinct.”  
“Well, your instincts were off. Apologize.”  
“But-”  
“Apologize.”  
Theon glared at Osha.  
“I’m sorry.” he said begrudgingly.   
Robb didn’t seem pleased, but he nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon goes back to the bar and he meets some girls

That night, Theon went back to the Dreadfort.  
It was not that he wanted to get back. It was not that there weren’t places around he’d much rather go to than the fucking Dreadfort. But it turned out he had walked into one of the clubs, and had been overwhelmed by the amount of people. That almost never happened, but it seemed it was one of those days.  
Usually, Theon went back to the Stark household when he found out he wasn’t feeling especially sociable, but it just happened he didn’t want to be there either.  
Because they had hired Osha. On the spot.  
Theon and the rest had gotten to the house, only to find out Rickon had already arrived. And seeing an almost empty house he had, of course, started to run around. Now, had it been any other child, that would have been okay.  
Not Rickon. Rickon was disaster incarnate. There was already a lamp broken on the floor. Rickon was smashing Sansa’s piano, with hands full of peanut butter.  
_Where the hell had he even gotten peanut butter from?_  
And Osha had immediately walked to the youngest boy. In retaliation for daring approach him, Rickon had thrown a shoe at her. She had caught it in midair. The whole thing was _ridiculous_.  
But by Rickon’s logic, that earned respect. He had even gaped a bit.  
“Let’s clean that up.” Osha had said.  
Rickon had obeyed.  
And lo and behold, they had hired her as the little monster’s new babysitter.

At dinner, Osha had told the story of Theon tackling her. She had bathed and been handed new clothes. And she was laughing at him for trying to defend Bran.  
And so were the Starks. Not loud guffaws like Osha’s, but it was sincere enough. They were laughing at _him_.  
He ought to be laughing at them, instead. They had accepted a stranger in the house, without asking why she was homeless, why she was near an elementary school. Without asking anything. Without talking about Joffrey. It had just been a call from Robb to his mother, and there she was: hired.  
The Starks were trusting idiots.  
Theon had excused himself from the dinner table and rushed to get his jacket. He had left without saying goodbye. And he had walked to The Direwolf, only to realize he didn’t want to be there.  
So he’d gone to the Dreadfort.

To his surprise, the place was full too. He didn’t understand it, really. The place was known for being shitty. The music they played was wildly loud and inconsistent. Sometimes it was rock, sometimes R&B, sometimes pop. Sometimes it was just noise. Literal noise that people danced to. Like when Theon came in. He had turned around after staring dumbly from the door.  
“You’re not leaving, are you?” asked a woman’s voice.  
He looked at her, and then gave her a long glance. She noticed and smiled, grabbing his arm and tugging him inside. She was surprisingly strong.  
“Sorry, but-”  
“But what?” she asked, pouting a bit “What? You don’t like me?”  
Theon glanced at her again. She was a brunette, or so it seemed under the lights or lack thereof. She had a modest chest, big eyes… There was something strange about her smile, but she was hot.  
“I didn’t say that.” He was already grinning, and the noise didn’t seem to bother him as much.  
“Then?”  
“Nothing. Sorry, but I’m a bit shocked I caught your eye so quickly.” He laughed.  
She took a second or two to laugh back. “Of course you caught my eye, Theon Greyjoy.” She made him sit by the bar. Theon was, of course, not surprised she knew his name. After all, he was pretty well-known around those parts.  
“Well, you know my name. I think it’s unfair I don’t know yours.”  
She nodded and ran her hand down his arm. “Myranda.”  
“Pleased to meet you.”  
“So am I. And this is my friend Violet.” She said. Theon frowned, a bit confused for a second, until someone put her arms around his shoulders.  
Theon turned slightly to see some blonde hair. He felt breasts press to his back, and he smirked a little. “Well, hello Violet.”  
She giggled and moved towards Myranda. “Hello.” She was also plenty attractive.  
Violet moved a stool to sit by Myranda. She rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. “Will you buy us a drink?” asked Myranda.  
Theon chuckled a little, amused by how direct she was. He liked them like that; direct women were often very good in bed, to his experience. “Of course. What do you want?”  
“Oh, a cocktail would be nice.” Theon was pretty sure Violet had emphasized the first syllable of her choice of drink far too much. “We’re regulars here, though. They know what we like.”  
Theon nodded and, dutifully, gestured to the bartender. He saw someone approach out of the corner of his eye. “A rum and coke for me and whatever the girls usually drink.”  
“Right away, sir.” The man replied. Myranda was playing with Violet’s hair, and Theon didn’t even spare the bartender a glance until he heard “It is good to see you back.”  
Sure enough, it was the bartender from the other night. He recognized his eyes. “Ah, hello, R-...” He realized he didn’t remember his name, but the other man smiled, in a way that showed he understood.  
“Ramsay, sir.” He bowed his head in a servile way. Theon snorted before he could stop it, taken aback by that. It was strange to see a man act like that.  
“Ramsay.” he repeated, as he got the drinks. “Thank you.” He then nonchalantly turned back to the girls, whom he cared more about. “So, girls, how are you tonight?”  
They chuckled, as if he had said something funny. He decided to pay it no mind. “Very well, and you?” Myranda asked.  
Theon thought about the Starks for a moment, about why he had left that night. That was none of their business. “I’m great, especially now that I’m with you.”  
Violet sipped on her drink, looking very amused.  
_Maybe they are drunk_ , Theon thought. They didn’t look drunk, but sometimes people were really good at hiding it.  
Myranda elbowed Violet in the ribs lightly. “Are you sure? You didn’t look all that well when you walked through the door.”  
Theon froze for a moment, then laughed. “I promise, I was. I simply wasn’t expecting the music.”  
“Is something wrong with the music?”  
“It’s noise.”  
Violet’s shoulders shook as she giggled. “It’s electronic. Don’t you like electronic music?”  
Theon was going to talk, but Myranda interrupted. “Oh, don’t be mean to him. He just doesn’t know it well. I mean, after all, he lives with the _Starks_. They probably only listen to things that came out twenty years ago.”  
He would have frowned, but they weren’t exactly wrong. Robb’s music taste, for example, was very much like his father’s: classic rock ballads, mainly. Sansa listened to modern music, but it was mainly girly pop. Jon, too, liked more contemporary songs, but his taste was as he was: weird and moody. The kind of music Theon would never admit to liking. “Well, I’m not a Stark.” he finally said, in a joking manner.  
“Clearly not.”  
Okay, that was just… unnecessary, Theon thought, as he glanced at Myranda. Nonetheless, he kept the smile on his face. “Nor do I want to be one.”  
There was a short moment of silence, and then Violet raised her voice: “Why not?”  
Theon huffed, taking a generous sip. The drink was strong. “Well, you know how they are.”  
“No, we don’t.” the blond girl replied, looking at him with wide eyes and a smile. She looked almost innocent. “Please tell us.”  
“I don’t thi-”  
“No. Please” Myranda insisted, leaning forward. “We only know about the general things. They look like such a perfect family.”  
Theon laughed a little “And they are.” Myranda frowned, and he could tell he would lose their attention if he just left it at that. “I mean, if you consider being cold, stupid and old-fashioned perfect.”  
“Oh?” Violet said.  
And just like that, Theon began complaining about them, ordering drinks as he went. He started with Eddard. How strict he was, his stupid rules such as “no drinking in the house before you turn twenty one”, when the legal drinking age was eighteen. No smoking. No dating until you are fifteen, much to Sansa’s annoyance. No this, not the other. He loved playing the part of the father when it came to imposing rules, even to Theon, but when they did something good, it was only at his relatives that he smiled.  
Also there was Catelyn. Oh, she was an interesting one. Even then, she sometimes introduced herself as Catelyn Tully. Not Stark. To himself, Theon wondered why they couldn’t talk about that lack of belonging, just as with Jon. But she was proud. And she had a favorite: Bran. And let’s not talk about his treatment of Jon. And let’s not talk about the fact she’d dated Ned’s brother once.  
He spoke with increasing viciousness. Sansa was a fool. Arya, a weirdo. Jon was just… so many things he couldn’t even begin. Well, Rickon of course was a little monster. And Bran was just sad now.  
Him talking took a long time, between correcting rumors, telling stories. The girls heard him with wide eyes and smiles on their faces. He drank.  
“What about Robb Stark?” Myranda asked, as Theon finished yet another glass. He gestured at the bartender to refill it.  
Theon froze for a moment. “What about him?” he muttered.  
“Well, he looks just so… good. Is he?”  
Theon frowned a little, not knowing where the girls wanted to take that. “Yes.”  
“I see.”  
Again, they looked bored.  
“He’s too good and trusting.” They nodded, as if encouraging to speak more, but he said nothing else about the topic. Silence reigned for a moment. “You girls want to dance?”  
Myranda pouted lightly, apparently upset by the change of topic. “No thanks. We’re tired.”  
“Well, then. Do you want to get the hell out of here? Go to your place?” he offered, trying to smirk. His face felt a little numb.  
“Which one of us are you talking to?” Violet asked.  
“Both.” He didn’t even hesitate. The girls had been touchy-feely the whole night and Theon had gotten ideas, after all.  
And they laughed.  
“Did you think we were that easy?” Myranda asked, and Theon had to bite his tongue not to say yes. “You should at least buy us dinner.”  
“I bought you drinks.”  
Violet laughed. “A drink is like, a third of a dinner.”  
Theon frowned. “Okay, fine. How about I buy you dinner, then?”  
“It’s past midnight.”  
_Already?_  
“Then give me your numbers, I’ll invite you out some day.”  
The girls seemed to think about it. Myranda whispered something in Violet’s ear. Violet nodded and whispered some other thing. And they spoke like that for a while. Meanwhile, Theon finished his drink. Then Myranda turned to him. “How about this?: if we see each other again, we’ll accept dinner.”  
_Were they kidding him?_  
“And how would I find you?”  
“Well, as we said, we’re regulars.” Violet shrugged a little, and stood up. “Now, we’re tired, so we are going home.” Violet kissed his cheek, Myranda waved. They left holding hands.  
Theon looked around, very lost.  
“Excuse me.” he said, turning to the bartender…. Whose name he had forgotten. Again. “Ra-?”  
“-msay” he finished, and he smiled, looking at him with those weird, wide eyes.  
“Yes. What the fuck just happened?” Had he been scammed or something? Just in case, he checked his wallet. He still had his money.  
Ramsay looked around and laughed softly. “Oh, don’t mind them, sir. They just like to tease. They are good girls.” He spoke in a strange tone. His voice sounded… Theon could only think of it as “round”. Shit, he was seriously drunk if that made sense to him. “Just a little bit shy.”  
“They didn’t seem shy.”  
“Well, they must have gotten intimidated by you.” Theon raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t dislike the sound of it. “I mean, there are stories about your… prowess.” Ramsay gave a crooked smile.  
Theon felt mocked. “Is there something funny about it? Don’t you believe them?”  
“Yes, of course, sir.” Ramsay seemed apologetic.  
“Then why are you smiling like that?”  
The bartender stared at him for a moment. “Sorry” he muttered “It was not my intention to laugh at you, sir.”  
Theon sighed, his hands going through his hair. He was being paranoid. “It’s alright.” he stayed quiet. “How much do I owe you?”  
“24”. Theon nodded, and paid. After doubting a little, he gave him 5 extra, as a tip. “Thank you, sir.”  
“Just call me Theon.” he said, dismissively, as he raised to go.  
“Will you be coming back?” Ramsay asked, as Theon was heading towards the door. “I’m sure the girls want to see you again.”  
He pondered about that, before declaring, with a cocky smile: “I will. Wouldn’t want them to miss me.”  
“I’m sure. They’ll be glad to see you again.” Ramsay repeated, as he began washing the glasses.  
Theon raised an eyebrow. There was something about his tone that was off. He decided to ignore that feeling, and ignore Ramsay. He left.  
When he checked his cellphone, he found out it was 11.36 PM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, now there's a bit more Ramsay. If he seems OoC, it's because he is, on purpose
> 
> I love being on holidays.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon and Robb talk

He was pissed off, as he walked back to his pl— To the Starks’ place. He’d been played, and he wasn’t sure why. Myranda had approached him. He hadn’t gone to her. He hadn’t asked her to flirt with him. Hell, he had had prettier girls than her, after all.  
He would still come back, anyway. That would show her. Once they were in bed together, she’d be begging for his cock. She’d apologize for making fun of him and lying to him, and so would Violet.  
And he’d forgive them. And he’d give it to them. Then, he would forget all about them and never go to the fucking Dreadfort again.  
He was so angry about that, he had forgotten he was also angry about Osha. At least until he walked into the Stark residency and spotted her. She had appeared from out of shitwhere, scaring him half to dead.  
Then she had the nerve to shush him. “The little sirs are sleeping.” She said, and Theon hated her for the courteous and almost sincere way she referred to the Stark boys. No one had ever referred to him as a ‘little sir’, even when he’d lived back in his own house. Even the servants had referred to him as “the crybaby”. The little shit, the runt. Those who didn’t look at him with hatred, mocked him. Those that didn’t mock him, pitied him. He’d hated the former the most, and rejected them when they offered to clean his tears or his wounds. Or when they had offered food, no matter how much he wanted it. Even as a six-year-old, he’d had his pride and his philosophy: he needed to earn things. You were no true ironborn if you just accepted the things that were handed to you.  
He was still standing in the entrance hall, and Osha had left, probably not bothered about him. But that got him thinking about his being there again. How had he paid for being in the Stark household? Sometimes he looked after the kids. But now Rickon had Osha and Bran had Wylis.  
How had he paid for his schooling, for example? Or his room? Or his clothes?  
He hadn’t. For nine years, he had leeched from them. No wonder they hated him. No wonder they laughed at him, even when he was there. He was not a kid anymore. His feelings didn’t deserve to be spared.  
And what was he going to do with his life, anyway? He had turned eighteen a few months ago, he was about to finish school. What would he study?  
What would he do?  
The hall was extremely dark, so when a door opened, Theon immediately looked up. Shit. He’d probably woken someone up.  
A figure moved to the staircase, standing atop of it and looking down. Robb. Theon couldn’t see his face, but he still pictured his expression perfectly well. A slight frown, mouth slightly open, chin up. Without speaking, he gestured at him to follow. And Theon did so, after a bit.  
He went to his room, knowing that Robb was behind him. They both walked in Theon closed the door. He had already schooled his face to smile, as it often did. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, Stark?” he asked.  
Robb’s frown seemed to vanish a little. He still sounded serious when he spoke, however. Then again, when did he ever _not_ sound serious? “Where did you go? Why didn’t you tell us you were leaving?”  
“Do you want to turn a lamp towards my face for your interrogation?” Theon joked, as he went to sit in the bed. His friend seemed unamused. “Oh, calm down. A bar. I think that’s clear enough.”  
“You know dad doesn’t like you drinking.”  
“Well, tough shit. He’s not my dad.” Normally, he would have just thought that, but he was upset and drunk. Still, he kept the smile on his face.  
“You’re living under his roof. You should at least respect his rules.”  
“I do respect them. I never drink under his roof.”  
Robb stared hard at him for a few moments, then he sighed, defeated. “So what? You didn’t go to a girl’s apartment tonight?”  
Theon’s smile almost vanished. Almost. “I wasn’t feeling in the mood.” There was a strange silence and then Robb started making his way towards the door. Theon was going to keep quiet, but he didn’t. “What? You’re mad at me or something?”  
His friend stopped, and now he looked surprised. “No. Why would I be mad?”  
“I don’t know, maybe because I was rude to the hobo.”  
“Well, if you call her that, I will get mad. She’s a good person.”  
“Robb. You don’t even know her.”  
“Well, neither do you. I’d rather assume the best of people.”  
Theon snorted. “Believe me, I know.”  
Robb crossed his arms over his chest “Do you have a problem with that?”  
He hesitated. “You know what? I do. Like, with Joffrey. Where did thinking well about him end? He stole your brother’s wheelchair and you didn’t even tell anyone.”  
“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstand-”  
“No, it’s not. You know as well as I do that the guy’s a shitlord. We should punch him in the face.”  
Robb stammered “For God’s sake, Theon. He’s _fourteen_!”  
“You are just protecting him because he’s the son of your dad’s best friend.”  
His friend rolled his eyes. “I’m going to keep an eye on him, Theon. Ask him why he did that.”  
“You can’t just talk your problems away.”  
“Can’t I?” Robb asked him “You should try it sometime.” Theon pursed his lips into a tight line. “You know, rather than trying to fuck or drink them away.”  
“It works well.”  
“No it doesn’t.”  
Theon’s lip twitched a little. He had not gone there to be chastised. “Go away. I had a shitty day.”  
“Then tell me about it.” Robb said, in a definite way. And Theon thought about actually speaking to him, so he’d leave him alone. But he knew Robb. He would eventually go. He just needed to push him away.  
“I had a shitty day and I’m going to wank it out. So go away.”  
To his surprise, Robb didn’t move an inch. Well, except his face. His expression was new. Something that Theon did not know how to name. It was somewhat familiar to the expression he made when Theon told about a specially wild sexual encounter, only not quite as ashamed.  
“What? You want to watch?” He joked, now that he’d had time to get back to feeling like himself.  
Robb also had time, however, and he was back to looking serious, if a bit offended. “I know you. Something’s troubling you.”  
Well, no shit. “I’m f-”  
“Yes. _You_ are fine. You know, when you leave like that, we get worried.”  
Theon looked at him, surprised. “You do?” he asked, maybe a bit too curious.  
“Of course. I mean, remember when you first got here?” Theon huffed, never appreciating a mention of those days. “You ran away several times.”  
“Yes, I know. I was there. But I was a kid and you had taken me away from my family.”  
“They were starving you.”  
Theon rolled his eyes. “I just hadn’t earned my food.” He didn’t like talking about that. He was not drunk enough to talk about that.  
“Stealing food is not earning it.” Robb said, always the lawful one.  
“It would have been if I hadn’t gotten caught.” Theon said, with certain resentment.  
“Dad was just doing his job.” Before Theon could protest, Robb kept talking “Theon, you were ten. Also, you were my friend.”  
“‘Was’ your friend?” Theon asked, before he could stop himself. “What am I now?”  
“Are.” Robb corrected himself almost immediately. The other raised his eyebrows. “Seriously, do I have to say it again?” Robb added, a bit exasperated.  
“Say what?” Theon knew what he was referring to. But it was a good way to not dwell in that unpleasant topic of the past anymore. Robb seemed to get that. But he also seemed to think it was important to say it. He walked towards Theon and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Theon. You are, and will always be, my friend. Now and always.”  
There was silence for a bit. Then there was a banging on the wall, and Arya’s voice said “Just kiss and go to sleep.” They also heard Jon laugh. Stricken with the sudden realization that the whole house had been listening to them, Robb seemed suddenly uncomfortable. He took his hand away from Theon’s shoulder.  
“Just thought you should know.” Robb said, heading towards the door.  
“Mhm” Theon hummed, in an uninterested way, not raising his sight until the door was closed again.

Despite everything, he fell asleep with a small smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yey, so this chapter is kind of meh, but I'm mainly writing to get back into it. Also, Robb is adorable and I love him.  
> My holidays are ending which is not nice.  
> Thank you so much for reading this!


End file.
